


Caved In

by boredbrooder



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 04:07:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredbrooder/pseuds/boredbrooder
Summary: After the events on Svartelheim, the Convergence drops Loki in a cave where he meets a mortal who tries to help him.





	Caved In

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to @maniploki, who helped me with research and made most of the manips for me.

Caved In  
I woke up to pitch black silence. At first, I wasn’t sure I was even awake yet. I could feel my irises stretch for the slightest beam of light as I turned my head in all directions from where I lay on the floor. Nothing was coming in. Just to fulfill the cliché, I waved my hand in front of my face. I drew it in so close I touched my nose. I could not see it. I wondered briefly if I’d gone blind but decided to dismiss such a notion without further proof.

Since my eyes were useless, I turned my attention to my other senses. I focused on breathing and heard the air passing through my body. I felt my chest rise, half pressed to the cold ground as I lay on my side. There seemed to be oxygen in here, but how was it getting in? And where was “here”? At least the air smelled clean, nothing festering or… worse. I put my hands on the ground to push myself into a sitting position, preparing to stand. I wanted to take my time, because I didn’t know my surroundings or condition. The ground was cold, hard, rough, like a slab of rock. My head swam with wooziness from my strange wake-up, but nothing hurt any more than one would expect after sleeping on the ground. I stretched my arms out and turned at the waist, trying to feel for any barrier or obstacle indicating which direction I would move. I found nothing. Finally, I stood up – slowly – taking first one knee and then both feet.

I allowed myself a moment to gain equilibrium. I remembered learning that balance took place in the ears, but seeing the world upright certainly helped. Just as in all awkward darkness moments, I stuck my hands out to feel my way forward as I took tentative step after step. My shoes were gone, but I was left my socks. This reminded me of the last thing I remembered before waking up. I was outside in a crowded area looking for something. That was all. I couldn’t remember where I’d been, close to home certainly. I couldn’t remember what I was looking for. 

In the deafening silence, even soft cotton placed warily on a stone surface made the slightest hush sound. It was a wide-open space. I tried to walk in a straight line, but I couldn’t be sure. My breathing seemed to echo slightly, suggesting the roof was quite high. I looked up once or twice just to check. Not the slightest light allowed me to be sure. Finally, my hand collided with something solid. I stood still and explored this surface with my outstretched fingers. It was cold and hard and rough, just like the floor. I walked along, keeping this surface on my hand. Some parts divited in. Some parts jutted out. A suspicion built in my mind and I lowered to the ground to investigate. The stone floor connected to the stone wall roughly. I was in a cave, or a stone cavern, at least.

I stood up and let out a sigh, and found fear gripping my heart. My breath had been echoing in this place since I woke up, sometimes louder than others. But the loudest sound I’d made thus far did not echo. It was then I suspected I might not be alone.

Don’t panic, I coached myself, clinging to the wall for support. I turned to see a pair of blood red eyes glowing in the distance. It took all my effort not to scream. I looked around again, tossing my head about frantically. No other object could be seen, and no light sources were present. Of course, my heart was racing at this point. I put one hand to my thrumming chest, while the other seemed unable to part from the stone wall. Things aren’t always what they seem!

“Hello,” I ventured, my voice shaking despite my brave attempt. 

“Hello, mortal,” answered a sibilant voice, barely above a whisper.

“Y-you s-speak English. Are y-you h-human?”I trembled.

“I speak all languages,” the glowing eyes explained. “We call it All-speak.” I decided to process this strange new information later. I had a companion. I could freak out about meeting an alien when I was safe at home.

“My name is Hanni, or Berhane for the full version,” I said, hoping familiarity would calm me down.

“Loki,” the sibilant voice responded simply. I caught the deeper tones and decided my companion was probably male. He didn’t seem intent on saying more at the moment.

“All I can see are your eyes,” I explained. No response. “On my planet, red eyes, or glowing eyes, or especially red, glowing eyes, are used throughout fiction to indicate something bad or evil, like a monster.”

“Do you think I’m a monster?” the voice asked. I picked up melodious undertones and wondered if he was mocking me.

“I’m not sure yet. Children identify monsters by their monstrous look, but adults know monsters are identified by their monstrous behavior. You haven’t attacked me yet, so that’s a good sign you might not be a monster.” As I brought my ramble to an end, I turned more to face the eyes, my anchoring hand leaving the cool reassurance of the wall. The voice chuckled deeply, too deep for any woman I’d ever heard. I was reassured in my assessment of gender.

“You hesitate in your movements. Are you afraid of me?”the voice mocked.

“I’m more afraid of this place, and the unknown, which I guess includes you.” After a moment’s consideration, I added, “Can you see in the dark?” There was that deep chuckle again.

“Well enough. I can see your hair tickling your elbows. I can see the scar on your leg above your footwear.” I suddenly realized I was only wearing shorts and a blouse, but I wasn’t cold. Nor was it very warm in here. I considered for a moment before remembering caves have their own temperatures different from the surrounding environment.

“Can you see a way out of here,” I asked, taking a subconscious step forward. I grabbed a chunk of hair nervously.

“Not from where I’m sitting, but I can’t see all of the cavern from here,” Loki explained. Why was he sitting? How long has he been here? His eyes disappeared at the sharp intake of breath from across the emptiness. Was he in pain? However, when his eyes appeared once more, they were as steady as ever.

“Can I… do you mind if I… approach you?” I asked tentatively, running my hand down my fist-full of black curls. Loki huffed, and I imagined a smirk.

“You may,” he consented. I deliberated.

“Um, is there anything in my way?” I squinted as though expecting something to show itself. It did with those red eyes, I reminded myself.

“There is not, but the floor is not entirely even, so pick your feet up when you walk.” Loki’s voice was raising to a more conversational tone and it sounded pleasant. I tried not to think about it.  
Stepping cautiously, both hands clutching my long ropes of hair, I began to cross the cold stone void. It seemed to take longer than I expected, but honestly, I had no sense of time in this place anyway. 

“Not there!” Loki’s voice warned urgently, just as my foot came down. I breathed in a sort of shriek in fear for my life before I realized my foot came down on solid stone, just like every other step I’d taken. Deep laughter rumbled from the location of the red eyes.

“That’s not funny,” I huffed, gasping for air, willing my heart to stop racing, clutching my blouse over my chest now.

“I disagree,” he said gleefully. But the glee was diminished by the attempt to suppress a cough. I hesitated. “The way is clear, I assure you,” the Trickster said when he realized I still hadn’t moved. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly to steady myself. Then I continued my progress forward.

As the red eyes grew larger, or nearer, I started creeping to the side. I didn’t know the shape or size of the owner of those glowing orbs and I didn’t want to step on him. They seemed to maintain focus on me, as though Loki was turning his head.

“Put your hand out, you’re near the wall,” Loki instructed. I was unsure whether to trust him again, but since my life was essentially in his hands – or eyes – I decided to be safe than sorry. Reaching my hand out, it was only a few more steps before I felt the wall. I stepped up close, turned around and sat with my back against the cold surface.

We sat quietly for a long moment. With nothing much else to do, my nose took over. The smell of dirt and rust assaulted my senses. As I adjusted to it, I picked up on the less obvious smell of leather. There was one more scent almost completely hidden amidst the stronger odors. It was flowery but definitely manly (manly, that’s the word, I huffed in my head) but also completely unfamiliar. All the while I studied my senses, Loki’s eyes lingered on me. We were studying each other! Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer. “Do you know where we are?” I asked tentatively.

“No, not entirely,” Loki said tightly. There was that hint of pain again. “On the broadest scale, I know we are in Yggdrasil. In the narrowest scale, we are in a cavern. In between the two, I’m as clueless as you. I don’t even know what realm this is.” I didn’t know what Yggdrasil was, and ‘realm’ was a strange word to use in this context. I doubted his humanness further as I tried to grapple for sensical explanations.

“Realm? Uh, we’re on Earth… aren’t we?” I added hopefully. I realized suddenly that the dirt smell, though definitely dirt, was not Earth familiar. I shrugged it away. Having no idea how I got here, I supposed I really couldn’t be sure. Loki exhaled another smirk and I felt a sinking feeling in my chest. Normally, I would have looked down or looked away, but with the daunting glowing red eyes as the only thing I could see, I couldn’t look away. The deep dark nothingness was scarier than a thousand horror movies before my eyes.

“How did we get here anyway,” I continued.

“A little event called the Convergence. All the nine realms of Yggdrasil lined up with Midgard, your Earth, and it caused the fabric of reality to break down. Portals appeared all over. You passed through one from Earth, and I passed through one from Svartelheim.” Loki’s explanation made little sense to me, but it was as much a reason as any to find myself in a cave with an alien. 

“Is that where you’re from? Svartelheim?” I asked.

“No, I’m from Asgard… and Jotunheim.” He sounded wistful at the first and disgusted at the second. I wondered what it meant but decided not to pry. We could only get so personal this early in our relationship. I pondered my predicament for a while.

“You can come closer,” he offered after another long silence. It was funny how loud breathing could be when it was the only sound in the room. I scooted in the direction of the eyes and the voice, my shorts scraping noisily against the stone. Loki gave me no warning, and I only stopped when I felt him.

“Oh! Sorry,” I said blushing. Then, I was glad it was so dark. Could he register the change in the color of my cheeks? Loki grunted from the impact but said nothing. “You’re cold!” I exclaimed as my bare forearm brushed up against his body. Even loud noises could be delivered quietly here.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” Loki agreed off-handedly.

“Is this your normal body temperature?” I pried.

“In this form, yes. Though I can get considerably colder if I call on the ice force,” he explained. “Cold enough to damage your skin.” I didn’t like the sound of that. I huddled my arm close to my chest to avoid his touch, just in case. But despite my best efforts, my arm kept grazing him.

“Can I … touch you?” The question burst out of me but was still timid. My curiosity will kill me, I thought.

“Yes,” Loki said slowly. I held my hand out, not sure where to start, still gazing at the red eyes. They glanced down at my seeking hand, then back up at me. Suddenly, something large and cold wrapped itself around my hand. I took it in both my hands and turned it over.

“Four fingers,” I stated as I carefully counted. “And a thumb. Three knuckles on each finger.” I gently gripped each one in either one of my hands, running my hands from the first knuckle to the nail beds. “Pointed fingernails,” I gasped. “Do they grow that way, or do you cut them?”

“These claws? They grow that way. I have fingernails in my other form, and I must cut them from time to time,” Loki explained.

“Other form?” I inquired. I was now testing each claw, as he called them, and discovering their sharpness. His index claw was broken to the skin and a cut lay on the tip of his finger.

“Yes,” he growled, and I realized he didn’t want to be questioned about it. I turned his hand over.

“Palm… lines, just like me.” Running my finger along one of his, I reached the pad. I rubbed it in circles gently, feeling for texture. “Do you have fingerprints?”

“I never checked in this form,” he said curiously. He touched his thumb to his index finger, my hand still in his palm. I felt him rubbing in a similar circle. “Possibly,” he answered after a moment. I shrugged and continued. 

At his wrist, I felt the beginnings of raised lines, three of them on the inside. “Are these scars?” I asked, rubbing my fingers across them. He shuddered and jerked but managed not to pull his hand from my grasp. I gasped and dropped his hand, then regretted letting him go. “I’m sorry!”

“No, it’s nothing,” he groaned. “They’re sensitive, is all. They’re heritage lines.” 

“May I continue?” I asked gently, cautiously. “I promise I’ll be more careful.”

“Yes,” he agreed and put his hand back in mine. I saw his red eyes follow my hand around his wrist. His eyes were still the only thing I could see, so I stared at them while he watched my hands blindly explore his flesh.

Turning his hand over, I discovered several more heritage lines. Some spiraled down the back of the hand. One went halfway to the second knuckle of the thumb. I tried not to linger on them when I found them. I longed to trace them even though I couldn’t see them.

I flattened my hands and splayed my fingers around Loki’s wrists and forearms. His eyes flicked toward me a moment, before returning to my hands, growing just slightly wider. One hand on the inside, one hand on the outside, applying minimal pressure, I began to slide my hands up the long, thin extremity. I felt a bump on the outside and Loki hissed with a small jump. His eyes narrowed briefly in a wince.

I gasped and pulled the offending hand away. Realizing what it must be, I lowered it carefully again. “Is it broken?” I asked.

“Yes,” Loki confirmed. I felt the tender bruised skin around the bump and moved past it quickly. 

“Did it happen when you arrived here?” I questioned.

“Yes. I fell from quite a height, you see. Some things were damaged.” That seemed a strange way to describe an injury, but I let it slide.

I moved past the bump and to his elbow. My inside hand found the bend before the outside hand. Loki shuddered in pleasure this time and I breathed out a faint giggle.

“Don’t reveal your tickle spots,” I teased, dragging my nails over the sensitive skin. The ridged heritage lines seemed to converge there rather than the outside of the bend.

“No, don’t,” Loki groaned. He sounded pained again and rather than continuing as I would have liked, I stopped and resumed the explorations he allowed me.

I followed the ridges from the inside of the elbow bend to the outside of the bicep. I found another bump with a gash or cut on it and something hard and sharp on the inside. He shuddered and convulsed slightly, and I removed my hand. Something slick and cold was on my fingers. Blood, I realized.

“What is that?” I asked a little shocked. “Is it something I can take out for you?”

“No, don’t touch it. It’s the bone,” he grunted, breathing hard.

“What?!?” I gasped. My stomach flipped with nausea. Finding a broken bone was one thing, but touching it? Touching a broken bone covered in blood that is sticking out of a living person? I groaned as I’m sure my face blanched.

“Don’t worry, it will heal,” he informed.

“Not if we don’t set it first,” I contradicted.

“I’m not mortal. It will heal properly,” he insisted. His eyes had gone hazy and started to roll with the pain, but when he insisted on his healing powers, his gaze was steadily fixed on me.

I humphed my disbelief, or maybe disapproval, but it was his injury, so he could deal with it as he saw fit. I wiped the blood on my shorts before continuing. A whiff of that copper smell burned my nose. Then I returned my hands to his body and quickly moved past his upper arm.

His shoulder was my next exploration. Something stringy and soft lay on it. It felt like my own hair, and I removed one hand to my long locks to draw a comparison. It took practically no time for me to discover the hair on his shoulders grew from his head, just like mine. It was slightly curly, whereas mine was very curly. It was soft and pleasant to touch, but I didn’t want to linger. I continued where I left off, with his shoulder. It still had the ridges. Some lead up the neck, some down the bicep, some around the back, some across the front. 

Since my companion was resting his back against the wall, I had no choice but to explore forward. I shifted on my knees to get in closer.

“Your collar bone stands out beautifully,” I enthused, wondering if it looked as beautiful as it felt. I allowed my fingers to linger on the impression at the very middle of his collar bone to enjoy the smoothness. There was not even a heritage line passing through it.

“So, does yours,” he replied, eyes shifting toward my neckline. I blushed as his eyes slowly wandered back up to my face. I kept forgetting he could see in the dark. I decided to continue exploring.

Up or down… I chose down. No reason. I don’t need a reason, do I, I argued with myself. His pecs were large and well defined. I’d noticed it before on his arm, but it was hard to focus with all the breaks. His pec was also very smooth. Did he grow body hair, I wondered? I dragged my hand half way down his torso before discovering he didn’t have a nipple. I wondered why I was so eager to find it in the first place. This caused yet another blush.

“You’re adorable when you blush,” Loki commented weakly. His eyes slid back and forth in the blackness and I realized he must be shaking his head. I felt cold fingers on mine and realized he’d lifted his hand, the one opposite the side I sat on, to touch me back. My hand lingered on his chest where his nipple would have been, but I was focused on the cold fingers caressing the back of my hand. “Jotuns don’t breastfeed their young, so there’s no need for nipples or breasts.” I tried to pull my hand away, but he held it surprisingly firm.

“H-how do you…” I stuttered again. Would he read into my unfinished question?

“The infants are born with teeth and ready to digest food. Parents only need place the food in their mouths and instinct takes over.” He explained in a surprisingly soft voice. It was rather disarming.

“Oh,” I whispered, intending to speak louder but finding my own voice strained. He pushed my hands lower from his pec to his ribs. I felt bruised skin again. Bone shifted where it should have held fast. His intense glowing eyes trembled in pain, but he made no sound of discomfort except to hold his breath.

He continued moving my hand around his body, down toward his belly. Hard, firm abdomen and obliques – I held my breath at the thought that this alien might have one hot body. The ridges rippled under my fingers, but Loki seemed to ignore it. If he had a belly button, his hand didn’t drag mine over it. He made sure I felt the hem of his pants, what felt like soft leather. The top parts of Loki’s eyes were cut off momentarily, and I realized he’d hooded them with his eyelashes (if his eyes were as human as the rest of him). He was enjoying my hand on his lower abdomen despite his broken body.

Loki’s eyes returned to normal size and shape, fixated on me, as he pushed my hand tentatively toward his upper abdomen and sternum. His breathing became shallow. I could feel it against my hand and hear it from his nose. He was preparing himself for discomfort. His hand holding mine became rigid as we slowly moved up his torso. 

Suddenly, his skin texture changed. Where it once was smooth and soft, it became crusty, dry, broken. He made a painful sound as though through gritted teeth. His eyes glassed over. This was hurting him! I quickly tried to pull my hand away, but he held fast, a little too hard. He forced my fingers ever upward against his skin. 

My fingers encountered an opening. It felt slick like the one on his bicep, only no bone shards stuck through here. Some of it felt slimy, like wet boogers. A foul, rotting smell assaulted my nose. I instinctively blew hard out my nose to remove the odor, knowing even as I did so that it was useless.

“Loki, I think it’s infected,” I said through a squeaky voice. My stomach had turned, and I was trying to hold on to it. He did not answer. His breathing became rougher and he made a grunting sound, no doubt suppressing a cry or yelp. His eyes were brimming with water now. The glowing light behind them outlined the pool of tears clearly.

Part of me wished I could see everything, so I didn’t have to touch. Part of me wished I didn’t have to see even his eyes, so full of pain and pride and stubbornness. I looked away, but the darkness was overwhelming. Taking a deep breath, I looked back up and gave my attention to my fingers, being pushed ever upward along this gash.

It was clearly a gash. The further up our hands moved, the wider it became. It was longer than my hand, probably by at least double. Parts of it were slimy. The whole time, Loki ground his teeth and grunted breaths through his nose. Then, he did something I will never forget as long as I live.

After drawing my hand to the top of the gash and the crusty, cracked edge of the wound, he moved my hand back down to the widest part. Loki hissed, a strangled sigh emitting from his throat, as though he was struggling to keep the pain off his lips. I was barely containing my own tears after discovering the extent of the damage to his chest. 

My chest ached, my stomach clenched, my voice squeaked, my eyes leaked. Yet, I was oblivious to my state in the horror of his. “How did this happen from falling,” I asked. It happened then, without warning. He thrust my hand into the wound! I shrieked at the sudden warm wetness around my hand and wrist, then shuddered and sobbed at the extent of the damage. My eyes would no longer stay open, clenching shut in my distress. Loki’s hand tightened around my arm in a death grip. I thought I might bruise, but I was more worried about him. His body was rigid. He’d stopped breathing, as though holding his breath. His eyes widened and fixed on the ceiling. It was as though the scream he’d been longing to make finally came and it was mute.

He pushed my hand deeper and deeper until the warmth of his body was replaced with the cold stone behind his back. It was an impaling wound! But Loki made a noise that drew me away from my horror and disgust. It was as though he could no longer hold back as he grunted and wheezed into the pain. A high-pitched, strangled cry ripped my eyelids open. I fixed my eyes on his just in time to watch the salty pools disappear, the faintest redness illuminating each tear as it dipped over the lower eyelid and disappeared. It was so beautiful, and so heartbreaking.

Slowly, much slower than before, he pulled my hand back out of his chest. I felt the severed spinal column, the laceration on the heart, the clean cut of ribs and sternum. Some of the bone was shifted several inches out of place, likely due to the fall. As my hand reached the final exit point, Loki made another grunting cry. His red orbs slitted and moved wildly, as though his head was rolling from the pain.

My hand was finally free of its fleshy prison and Loki released his grip. The glowing lights held still and blinked in and out of existence, as though his eyelids were fluttering. I heard his ragged, heavy breaths. I imagined him leaning against the wall, needing to rest his weakening head.

“I was in a battle before I fell,” Loki informed proudly, but still huffing weakly, his voice tight with pain. “And for your information, I won, despite this.” He sounded so arrogant. A small scrape filled my ears, followed by a gentle plop. I guessed he’d waved his hand at his chest.

“Is that why you couldn’t just explain the situation and ask for help?” I knew he’d hear the sneer in my voice, but it was better than the disgust as I tried to hold down my stomach. I didn’t know what to clean my hand with, so I used the only thing I had, my blouse. As it smeared over the fabric, the rotten smell returned in full force, along with copper and leather. I gagged violently but managed not to retch.

“Now you know.” His voice was so weak, and his eyes were reduced to mere slits. Were they also a fainter glow?

“No, don’t die on me!” I squeaked. I reached for where his shoulders might have been, grabbing them awkwardly. “Loki! You’re not allowed to die!” I shook him against the stone and he groaned.

“Berhane,” he groaned. The red lights grew larger but not brighter.

“Loki, I need to clean your wound,” I stated, hovering over him and looking into those desperate red eyes.

“Impossible,” he sighed, eyes shifting left and right as they maintained focus on me.

“I have water,” I offered, anything to give him hope! His eyes grew wider at the possibility. “I had a bag with me before I woke up here. I can’t see it. Can you?” The pupils moved all around in the steadily held eyes. I moved to the side, so he could have a better view of the cavern.

“I can see it. It’s close to my coat and tunic.” If he was holding out his hand, I couldn’t see. I liked to think he was smart enough to know that and save his energy.

“I need you to direct me to it. Can you do that?” His eyes disappeared, and he sighed worryingly. “Can you do that,” I shouted.

“Yes, mortal,” Loki growled, his eyes returning, and I realized he might have lapsed and nodded on accident. I stood carefully and turned away from the comforting view of the only thing I could see.

“Ok, I’m ready,” I said, squaring my shoulders.

“Take ten steps forward,” Loki instructed. His voice was a little stronger and I wondered if he was forcing it for my sake. Rather than worry, I hurried, counting ten quick steps forward. “Turn right.” I did my best to turn a right angle considering I couldn’t see. Loki continued instructing and I continued following. However, my anxiety and erratic speed made the venture more difficult than it should have been if I were calm. “Kneel,” Loki instructed finally. “Feel around, you should find it.”

I felt around. I reached directly in front of me but felt only cold stone. I meandered to the left. Nothing but more stone. I felt to the right. My hand clasped a chunk of metal about the size of Loki’s forearm. This must be his gear, I thought. I noted the carvings in the metal tickling my fingers but had no way of determining what was on it. My fingers just weren’t that experienced.

“Ahead of you, Berhane,” Loki grunted. He didn’t sound very confident in his companion. I returned to exploring the ground in front of me. I reached farther ahead than before, and finally felt it. My shoes were there, too, though I didn’t know how they’d come off. I picked up my bag and stood up, turning slowly on the spot until my eyes registered anything at all. What a comfort it was when I spotted the faintly glowing red eyes across the cavern. They were fainter!

I hurried in their direction, remembering his first warning and picking up my feet against the uneven ground. I knew I’d arrived when I tripped over his outstretched legs and he groaned. That was a good sign. He was at least alive enough to complain.

“Stay with me, Loki,” I ordered. I knew I couldn’t stop him from dying, but I had to try. I dug through my bag, moving aside crumpled receipts and a package of gum before finding the water bottle. 

“I don’t know much about first aid. Should you maybe lay down?” A deep scraping of leather on stone filled the cavern. 

“Help,” he groaned. It sounded like bitterness on his tongue. Wasting no time, I felt down his body to his leather-clad legs and his heavy boots. I grabbed those boots and pulled, but he didn’t budge.

“I can’t move you. You must be too heavy,” I informed with a heavy heart. Loki struggled some more. 

“One leg at a time,” he instructed. “Move it sideways.” I did my best to comply. Meanwhile, Loki’s eyes jolted and jumped, and he grunted. Major scraping informed me he was doing his best to make his way down the wall with what little of his upper body he could still move. I grabbed the other leg and moved it, as well. After much struggling and grunting and scraping, he was finally flat on his back, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“Hanni,” he groaned. “Hanni…”

“Keep your eyes open!” I demanded when they started to flicker again. They snapped open and floated closer to me for a moment. He possibly lifted his head.

I crawled up his body with the water bottle but had nothing to act as a cleaning cloth. Gauze and binding were out of the question. Making a snap decision, I ripped off my blouse and tore it into strips. I opened the bottle and sprinkled some water on the wound, allowing one hand to rest on his open wound and feel the falling liquid.

“This will hurt,” I informed. He only continued groaning my name like a mantra.

“Hanni… Hanni…”

I dabbed and wiped at the wound, feeling carefully and focusing on the slimy boogery-feeling parts. Though it made me wince with disgust, I forced myself to keep going. I pressed the rag into the gaping wound as deep as I could. Copper and rotting meat wafted into my nostrils once more. Loki’s voice shuddered with a scream he attempted to hold in. Removing the cloth, I rinsed it with as little water as I could manage, then pressed it back into him. Though it took every ounce of willpower to keep going, I pressed as deep as Loki had. I needed to feel stone.

I had no idea how I was going to wash the wound on his back. He was too weak to turn himself over, and too heavy for me to turn over. Suddenly, the red orbs disappeared. They slowly became slits and then vanished. Fear gripped my chest. My throat tightened. My belly flopped again to feel heavy as a stone.

Was he dead? He couldn’t die after all I’ve done for him. How could he die? His eyes hadn’t stopped glowing, the glow was just covered by his eyelids, right? That meant he was still alive. What other signs? Heart beat? His heart was nearly completely severed. How could it pump blood through his body or produce a pulse I could feel? Breathing! Breathing was a sign of life, and he’d been doing that pretty well so far. I put a hand over his ribs and felt them rise and fall. I slithered my clean hand up his neck and face to his nose. Air was passing through in short, shallow bursts. Curiously, I let that hand explore his face, feeling a pointy chin, sharp cheekbones, thin lips, even low, well-tended eyebrows. There were more ridges on his face and I wondered if I’d find him appealing to the eye. That was until I remembered my other hand was deep in his chest cavity.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. He was still breathing. Perhaps he just passed out from the pain. I decided to keep helping him the best I could. I continued to dab and wipe the cloth on the inside of his rib cage. This wasn’t an easy task as the flesh continued to fold in around the wound. I continually had to wriggle and hunt for the passage, hoping I wasn’t causing more damage along the way. Finally, I was satisfied it was the best I could do under the circumstances. I’d removed as much of the slimy, boogery-feeling puss as I could.

I pulled the rag out. But the rag didn’t come out. It snagged on something. This was the region of the heart. There should have been nothing for it to snag on. Sighing, I cautiously moved my fingers around the area where the cloth was. The last thing I needed was to get a cut and have alien germs invading my bloodstream. I found the object. It was small and sharp. If I had to guess, I’d have said it was metal rather than bone. I closed my fingers around it and wiggled until it dislodged. Thank God Loki was asleep for this part. I’d have hated to hear his painful wails.

“You sure can survive a lot,” I spoke to the darkness, looking where his red eyes used to be.  
I folded the shard into a piece of my torn shirt and placed it in my shorts pocket. Fumbling around for my bag, I scooped it up and dug around inside. I pushed aside an umbrella and my change purse before landing my hand on my prize: a travel-sized sewing kit. For only a moment, I wondered how I was going to thread a needle in the dark. Then I remembered I didn’t have to. This kit came with several pre-threaded needles.

I didn’t know what parts needed to be sewn, but I remembered something else that might be beneficial. I reached back into my bag and pulled out some hand sanitizer. I had to sterilize the needle, and this was the best option I had. I should have thought about my hands, too, but Loki hadn’t when he’d forced me to explore his insides. Then I considered all the gashes I had discovered. There was the one in his back. I could only reach it from this side unless I could find a way to turn him over. I should probably try to repair his heart. I hoped it was easy enough to feel the 3D shape of a 2D picture. How similar was his heart to a human’s? Then I should sew the front of his chest, and not forget the bone sticking through his arm.

I had a game plan. I had materials. I took a bracing deep breath, then moved over his body. How I wished I had greater medical knowledge. What if I was causing more harm than good? As I leaned in over where his wound should be, the needle grazed a displaced rib and I dropped it.

“Damn it, Hanni,” I swore aloud – not very loud, though. How could I forget about setting the bones? I sincerely hoped it was as easy as sliding a drawstring through a hoodie.

One hand felt for the jutting out ribs. One hand felt through the thin flesh where the ribs should connect. Though I was getting used to the darkness, I wished more than ever for some light. I pushed the first rib. It made a squelching sound in the flesh. I scrunched my face and whined, but what was the point? I was already covered in his blood. He would die if I didn’t proceed. So, with my ears full of that blood curdling squelch, I carefully pushed all the ribs back in until they met resistance. I didn’t know how to tell if they were straight. As the last one met its stationary end, I allowed my fingers to linger on his skin. The heritage lines were so fascinating, swirling around his chest like that. I wanted to follow all of them. But he was still dying.

Now that the ribs were out of the way, I felt around the gaping wound for the needle I’d dropped. I found the thread first and lifted it carefully, feeling the heavy end. If I wasn’t careful, the needle would fall off. Using barely any pressure at all, I followed the thread down the weighted side until I felt the needle. Then I grabbed it and prepared to sew flesh. The thought made me cringe.

His heart should have been my first priority, but it wasn’t beating. That meant no pulse and no gushing blood. The only blood loss was from movement, breathing and gravity. He truly must have been alien if he could live without a beating heart. For reasons I still can’t identify, I decided to work back to front.

I dug through his entire chest cavity to his back side. I remembered trying to sew a purse from the inside. It was difficult and sloppy, but the stitches held. Groaning, I stuck my clean hand in, too. One hand would have to hold the two sides together while the other drew the needle through. The smell of copper grew stronger. It took me a moment before I realized I’d leaned my face closer in to his chest, probably for easier access. At least the rotten meat smell was no longer prevalent. My shorts would now stink of infection, but not this man’s wound.

It took far longer than I expected. I had no way to check my work. The gash in his back probably didn’t get closed all the way because I couldn’t see it and the severed spine was interfering with feeling it. The heart was mostly split in half. I had to take it out of his chest, as far as the connecting valves and veins and arteries would allow, to sew all around the edges. I was only able to feel for the smoothest alignment, considering everything slipped around in my bloody fingers. The chest wound probably closed the smoothest. I could even use his heritage lines to match up his skin properly, or so I hoped. Finally, I turned to his arm. I felt the break in the forearm and pushed the bump down until it smoothed out. Was that right? I didn’t know. It felt better to the touch. I felt his upper arm. I could have sworn the tear and the bone were larger when I first felt him, but I tended to it anyway. I pushed the bone back in as deep as my finger would go, then sewed up the tear with more thread.

I sat back on my heels to admire my good work. “You better be grateful when you wake up,” I spoke to the blackness where Loki’s face should be. I allowed myself a smirk, but my face fell when the sounds in the cave changed. Loki’s light, shallow breath became a heavy wheeze. What was happening to him? Had I neglected his lungs so thoroughly? They felt alright when I was digging around in his chest.

I leaned over again to put my hands on his body. Finding his chest, I felt him over. The stitches on the front hadn’t come undone. His far side was still normal as I found it. His near side was still bruised and broken. It felt weird, though. Something new had happened to it. It felt tighter than before.

“Damn,” I swore again. “Damn my ignorance!” My only medical knowledge came from television, so I wasn’t sure what to do. I could only scrounge my media trivia and hope something good popped up. Something did. It came from an episode of General Hospital. He might have air in his chest preventing his lungs from filling. I didn’t even bother trying to remember the medical term for it.

I dashed for my bag but fumbled it in my anxiety, sending objects everywhere. “If he dies, Berhane,” I threatened myself, not knowing how to finish it. I scrambled through the scattered mess, hoping against hope I’d find the objects I was looking for. I found the utility knife first. I intended to give it to my brother. But everything was covered in blood now, including it. I imagined handing him the carved bone knife covered in bright red mystery liquid and snickered. Oh, God, I must be losing my mind. I searched some more and found my metal travel cup. It included a stainless-steel straw. Lastly, I found the hand sanitizer close to his arm, where I’d left it for use on the many threaded needles used to seal his wounds.

“This is going to hurt, but you’re already unconscious, so just stay alive,” I warned him. I had no idea where to put the puncture. I felt all over his ribs. It would have to be a soft place, and I hoped to avoid cutting one of his heritage lines. “Please don’t die, please don’t die,” I chanted as I cut into his flesh. How would I know when I was deep enough? What if I cut his lung? My breathing grew rough and my hands started to shake as I withdrew the bloody blade. I picked up the straw, but my hands were shaking so bad I couldn’t line it up with the invisible hole. I tried again as my eyes filled with tears. I needed to calm down! I sat back and took a few deep breaths. “You can do this, Hanni,” I scolded myself. Finally, I leaned back in, felt for the hole, and stuck the straw in. It held the hole open, so the pressure could drain. A “pfftb” sound filled the cavern as the device started working. His wheezing settled a little and I started to relax.  
I was too wound up to relax, but there was nothing more I could think of to do for my patient. I stayed on my knees and started to gather my belongings back into my bag. I kept so many random items around that it was impossible for me to take inventory. But I could still feel around the cave floor. When my awkward crawling and tapping revealed no more, I crawled back to the body. He was still breathing. He was still sleeping.

My mind was spinning, racing, running faster than I could keep up with. Out of all the chaos, one thought seemed the clearest – getting out. Loki had said he couldn’t see the edges of the cave. Checking one last time to make sure he was safe, I placed my bag as close to him as I could and stood up. I felt for the wall and for him. Probably, I would hear him call out or scream in pain. With one hand always on the cold stone wall, I began to walk away from Loki. I listened to my breathing. I tried to hear for his breathing. I heard the pish-pish of my socks on the stone and the gentle glide of my fingers on the wall. All else was silent. I let my mind wander as I walked. Hunger was starting to build in my stomach, and I knew I was starting to relax. I probably wouldn’t want to eat until I’d washed all this blood off and changed out of these clothes smeared with infection. I had never felt so dirty in my life, but if Loki lived, it would be worth it.

My next step did not make the telltale pish sound and the texture of the ground changed through my sock. I looked down foolishly before kneeling and feeling with my blood-stained hands. I had stepped on some of Loki’s splayed hair. He didn’t seem to notice, as he slept on. He slept for a long time.

“Well, my friend, I didn’t find an exit this time around,” I informed the unconscious man. There was nothing else for me to do, so I sat by him with my back against the wall. My thoughts grew bored, our steady breathing lulling me to relax. “I suppose a few winks won’t hurt, will it?” I asked the man in the blackness. I allowed myself to lay down and press my back against the wall. Loki was close enough I’d wake when he stirred.

“Berhane? Berhane?” I woke with a gasp at the sound of a hoarse whisper. Loki was panicking and didn’t hear me. Loki craned his head up painfully and peered into the shadows, his red eyes were fearful, his pupils moving around sporadically. “Berhane!” he called again. 

The fear gripping his heart also filled his voice. “No,” he groaned as tears leaked from his glowing orbs. He released one shuddering wail, as if that was all his body could handle.  
Sleep finally faded entirely at the sound of a wail, as I realized I’d slept deeper than I’d wanted – deeper than I’d thought possible on cold stone. 

“What is it? Loki,” I called out, reaching my hand in his direction. His whimpers stopped with a gasp and his familiar red eyes appeared before me. They moved all around, pupils shifting around the visible red shape. I believe he was looking for me. “Loki, I’m here,” I assured, moving away from the wall and leaning over him so he could see me easier. “I’m glad you’re awake. I missed having something to see.” I smiled at the red eyes.

“What happened,” he asked with just a touch of snip in his tone.  
“You passed out. I thought you died, but you kept breathing. I cleaned out the infection as best I could feel, then patched you up.” I had a hard time masking the pride in my voice. “I found this while I was at it,” I added, pulling the rag from my pocket and holding it out for him to examine.

“A shard of the dark elf blade that stabbed me. That must be why I couldn’t heal properly. The poison from the shard lingered.” He groaned and the red eyes wavered, turning to the side. “Oh, mother,” he moaned. I realized there was some unspoken history between him, the mentioned woman, and the blade. His good arm shifted from resting by my leg to resting on his chest as though to hold his heart and relieve the emotional agony currently overwhelming the physical pain. “I woke alone,” he spat suddenly.

“What?” I asked, confused at the shift.

“I thought you left me. I thought I’d die alone with no one to care for me,” Loki continued. The shape of his eyes changed to reflect his anger and bitterness.

“Well, you’re not alone,” I assured, feeling hurt that he’d neglected to praise my life-saving efforts. “You’re still alive and I’m still here.”

That’s when he changed. His eyes, what little I could see went from soulful, even mournful, to surprised… dare I say livid. They stretched as wide as I’d ever seen them.

“What is this?” he snarled. In the alarmingly silent cavern, I could hear him glide his fingers across his skin, bump them over the heritage lines and swirls, zip them up and down the stitches. “What have you done?” he bellowed. 

“You were dying. I saved your life,” I tried to explain in a soothing voice that whined with fear.

“Are these – stitches? Mortal, human stitches?” he became more and more excited and I feared for the straw helping him breathe. “Take them out!”

“You don’t understand! They’re the only thing holding your heart together. If I take them out, you’ll die,” I explained, raising my voice in concern.

“I’ve already told you! I’m not mortal. I heal differently.” He was losing his patience. I heard scraping of skin against stone and he suppressed a groan through his teeth.

“Are you… are you getting up?” Now I had to worry about him ripping the stitches, especially the ones in his back.

“If you think I’m going to lie here like some… mangy rag…” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“Alright, STOP!” I shrieked when he paused. “I’ll do it,” I conceded. “Just… lay down, before you do yourself further harm. I’ll do it.” I heard him sink back down to the ground, but his eyes remained on me. He didn’t rest his head. I reached for my bag and dug for my travel sewing kit. There was a seam popper in there somewhere.

“Take them out,” he groaned weakly. “Take them all out.” He was breathing rough, panting but not wheezing. I realized another important part of taking care of a patient: keeping them calm. “And no, I can’t get up. My spinal cord hasn’t healed yet. I’m still mostly paralyzed.”

I put my hand on him and felt his shoulder. Carefully, I moved my hand across his bruised torso until I found the stitches. At one point, my hand got distracted and followed one of the swirling heritage lines. He grabbed my hand to stop me and I remembered they were sensitive.

“Sorry,” I smirked. He was so fascinating! The first popped were the seams in the chest. I could only feel but decided to pull out the threads as well. All the while, Loki gritted his teeth and strangled on his sounds of pain.

“… disgusting … uneducated … unclean …” Loki grumbled through gritted teeth. All the while, his complaints were punctuated with whines and agonized sighs and other sounds of pain. He seemed to have several reasons to dislike my attempts at healing him. I let him complain as my hands explored the now-open gash. 

It should be easy enough to find his heart, but I ran into his broken ribs first. Actually, I found something quite surprising where I expected his ribs to be. There was a hard, firm mesh filled with holes. It was quite immovable, but I had the slight impression that it was filling like a basketball, squeezing the holes smaller. Loki tried his best to muffle a cry, but it came out high and strangled. I gasped and quickly removed my hand.

“That’s growing bone, you imbecile,” Loki growled. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know! Let me try again. I can’t see!” I placated. Loki’s only answer was more heavy breathing. I moved back in, only to find his elegant, long-fingered hands trying to hold in the pain. So far, they stayed clear of the gaping hole in his chest, though.

“Carefully this time,” he demanded sharply as my hands disappeared again into his chest. I carefully found his heart and started popping stitches. As before, I had to somewhat remove the organ to reach all sides of it.

“It’s going to come apart,” I warned breezily. “It hasn’t been together long enough to heal.”

Loki’s labored breathing became an audible snarl. His trembling eyes squinted angrily. I frowned but continued to remove the stitches. To my utter surprise, the heart did not fall apart! The increased sensitivity in my fingers told me it wasn’t healed, so I was left to guess that his blood had some sort of cohesion or clot holding it together. That was very good for him.

Finally, I reached back to the depths of his torso until I found the last bit of stitching. It was a sloppy row down his back near his still-severed spine. I felt some more of that bony mesh similar to his ribs, but remembering the pain it caused my patient, I avoided this one.

“There, though I don’t see how you’ll heal when you’re falling so much apart,” I quipped. 

“It is better,” he pouted. “But I think you’re forgetting some of the stitches.” His glowing eyes moved down and to the side. I wished more than ever that they cast light as well as they held it. Were they glowing brighter, I wondered. Suddenly, I realized where he was looking.

“Oh, fine.” It was my turn to pout. I had deliberately left the arm stitches in place to test who’s healing method would work better. He’d busted me, though, so I had no choice but to take them out, as well. After the stitches were removed, I felt the tear made by the bone. It was barely a cut. How was that possible? Could he be right about his own healing methods? But I hadn’t seen or heard or felt anything I could interpret as medical equipment.

Sitting back on my heels, I searched around for the water bottle. I dug in my bag, moving aside my drawing pad and my brand-new drawing pens, until I found the protein bar, the only morsel of food on me.  
“Here,” I said, offering him the open bottle of water. “I saved some water for you after cleaning the puss out of your chest.” He took it roughly and I heard plastic crackle under the pressure of his firm grip. “Easy,” I flinched.

“Thank you,” he said, though it sounded painful. In the silence of the cavern, I heard his throat work and the water swallowed. “I need nourishment,” he demanded as he placed the empty bottle on my lap. I put the cap back on it and set it in my bag, thinking to recycle it when (if) we were free. Loki’s red eyes seemed to waver for a minute, as though he was ashamed of himself. He continued in a softer voice. “Do you have any?”

I’d been slow to respond because I was both scared of his abruptness and indignant at his attitude. However, I held out my other bloody hand with the protein bar in it.

“This is all I have,” I informed meekly. “I’m sorry about the blood. I didn’t exactly have anything to wash it off with. Good thing no one’s allergic to eating the color red.” I breathed a chuckle at my own joke. Loki ignored my awkward comment as he ripped the package open with his teeth and devoured it. The smell of chocolate and peanut butter reminded me of my own hunger.

“It’s not enough to regenerate my Seidr,” he complained. I wondered what part of his body he called say-dur. “I will have to rely on my Asgardian healing factor.” His red eyes roamed around the room, the pupils shifting side to side and even upward. “I still can’t see to the edges of this cavern.”

“I took a walk while you were sleeping,” I informed him, my heart growing heavy with my tone. “I kept a hand on the wall since I can’t see. I didn’t feel any exits or corridors.” We both sighed, but his was more calculating while mine was more defeated. “We’re stuck in here!”

Loki hummed his understanding, then changed the subject. “And what’s this?” he asked, waving a hand I could neither see nor hear. His eyes shifted downward, however, and I realized he was indicating his chest again. 

“You had some air in your chest cavity and your lungs couldn’t expand. You were suffocating,” I explained. “That let the air out and relieved the pressure.” Loki sighed painfully again along with a slippery sound. Then I heard a metallic clunk and realized he’d removed the straw. “I sanitized it first,” I informed him, feeling it was important he found me competent. 

Without warning, Loki seized my hand and pressed it to his chest. I felt the puncture where the straw had been. Loki’s eyes stayed fixed on me, his pupils growing large as he focused on my face. My own eyes must have grown larger as my mouth fell open. The cut under my finger was growing smaller. It was healing fast and of its own accord.

“What… How… Who…” I stuttered. He released my hand and I stumbled backward, ever keeping those red orbs in sight. Loki tutted but did not answer. We fell into silence, but our hopeless predicament made the silence unbearable.

“Speak to me,” Loki demanded flatly.

“Ok,” I said with a sigh, shifting into a more comfortable position. “Stories are a good way to fill the time. Tell me about your battle on what’s-it-called … swarm-heim.”

“Svartelheim,” Loki corrected with a touch of irritation in his tone. I found myself wondering what kind of tutor he would make.

“Yeah, that place. You said you were victorious. Tell me about it.” I encouraged.

“Very well. I was making up for my crime of trying to take over a planet by helping my brother save the universe.” Loki began in perfect story-telling voice. I wondered if he was exaggerating, but considering all I’d learned today alone, I decided maybe he wasn’t. How often was the entire universe threatened?

“The convergence caused the remnant of the Dark Elf army to awaken and seek the Aether. The leader of the Dark Elves, Malekith, also had a personal vengeance against the Asgardians because he lost the war against King Bor five thousand years ago.” Did Loki know his story was coming in so many pieces and fragments, full of details I didn’t understand? I listened patiently, saving a list of questions I could ask for further discussion. He did want to talk so badly.

“The Aether found its way inside a mortal by the name of Jane, who happened to be Brother’s special favorite Midgardian. Brother brought Jane to Asgard, and Malekith followed with his army. F-Odin was not thinking strategically. He thought the best course of action was to fight in Asgard. Brother, for once in his life, came up with a plan that impressed me greatly. He wanted to take Jane to Svartelheim, home of the Dark Elves, and he needed my help to do it.

“Brother broke me out of prison, then stole a bladeship. We quickly abandoned it for a longboat, and I took Jane and Brother through a secret passage to Svartelheim.”

“Wait, wait,” I interrupted. “Are you telling me it was two people against an army? How is that possible?”

“My beautiful Berhane, we are gods. It was foolish of Malekith to think he could take on two gods with only one fractured army,” Loki boasted. I tsked but let him continue.

“Svartelheim is a dead realm. It was probably for the best the elves left it. Not even the sun shined properly there. Malekith arrived very quickly in one of his bladeships. I set up an illusion to trick Malekith into removing the Aether from Jane, saving her life. I saved her life again when Brother tried and failed to destroy the Aether with lightning. I saved her again at great risk to my own life when Malekith detonated a black hole grenade.”

“Black hole grenade?” I questioned. “Grenades explode outward, but black holes suck inward.” I left my question hanging.

“This one sucked inward, into oblivion,” Loki said solemnly. 

“Eww,” I protested the thought. “And Owe! It must hurt like hell to get sucked in to such a small space before disappearing.”

“I wouldn’t know, I escaped that time,” Loki dismissed with irritation slipping into his tone again. “Might I continue?”

“Yes, please,” I said quickly. “Sorry.”

“While I was busy protecting Jane, Brother decided to play hero and save my life. This gave Malekith time to get away. He left behind the Kurse and a squadron of Dark Elves.”

“What’s the Kurse?” I asked, trailing off when his red eyes narrowed dangerously, his pupils focusing sharply on me. When he continued, I realized he had already planned to clarify that point.

“The Kurse is a monstrous mutation of a Dark Elf. It is impervious to Asgardian weaponry and nearly impossible to kill. I saw his birth from my cell. He started releasing inmates after his own escape. We had a stare-down, but he thought I was too dangerous to release.” I noted the proud shift in his voice. “I still wonder why,” Loki asked inwardly. “No Asgardian could harm him, yet he was afraid of me, an Asgardian prince.” I waited patiently, and he continued quickly. 

“Brother took out some of the elves with his hammer on his way to battle the Kurse. While I was left alone to protect the mortal and take out the rest of them. They surrounded me, and I calculated the odds. To be fair to them, I faced them with only one dagger.”

“Why?” The question forced its way out of me, but I managed to keep it a whisper.

“Two daggers would have finished them too quickly. That wouldn’t have been much fun. And calling on my magic would have been unfair, as they do not possess such gifts.” Loki gave a dramatic pause before continuing.

“With the only creature left alive being the Kurse, Jane was safe as long as we were alive. I observed Thor’s battle and decided he needed help. The beast had thrown a boulder in his face and was now hammering him into the hard earth.

“I grabbed one of their black hole grenades and a weapon of a dead elf. I remembered that no Asgardian weapon could harm them, which included Mjolnir. Firstly, I grabbed his attention by running him through with this large elf blade. That’s when the beast took me by surprise. He lifted me like I was a child and pushed the blade through my own chest and out the back. I was too shocked to scream, but clear-headed. I placed the grenade before he pushed me to the ground. 

“We watched together as he tried and failed to remove the grenade, then as he got sucked into oblivion. It was quite satisfying, though I was convulsing on the ground. Brother was at my side in an instant crying. I apologized for my crimes, then passed out. Brother must have thought me dead, because when I’d woken again, I was alone. Then, the convergence dropped me – quite literally – into this cavern. And that’s my battle story.”

“Wow, so two people really could take on an entire army and a monster!” I enthused.

“Yes, well. Now Malekith has the Aether. As the convergence is over and we are still alive, I must assume my brother was successful.”

“Ok, wow… uh… so many questions,” I burst excitedly. “Where to begin? Oh, I know. One of my first questions from talking earlier.” Loki’s red eyes tilted, and I thought he might have leaned his head to show he was listening. “What is Isra-sill?” I asked hopefully.

“Yggdrasil is the tree of life. All nine realms are connected to it. We are all connected to each other. The Bifrost allows us to travel between realms in an instant, but a magician (like me) can travel on the branches of the great tree itself.” Loki sounded so proud. I thought I might have even heard him huff his chest out.

A clanking, tumbling sound of rock on rock split the relative silence of the cave. I whipped my head in the direction, and guessed he had, too. 

“What was that?” I asked in a scared whisper. “Are you sure we’re the only two beings in this cavern?” Glancing at Loki, I saw him turning his head and shifting his pupils. He was scanning the cave for the disturbance.

“I’m quite sure,” Loki said more calmly than his eyes expressed. “It was only a stone.”

“There’s no bats or possums up there starting to wake up?” I asked fearfully.

“No animals of any kind,” Loki assured.

“No openings for something to fall through?” I continued.

“None at all, and I can see the top of the cavern,” Loki said confidently. 

“Then… what made it fall?” I persisted.

“The convergence created many holes. They must be filled. It is nothing more than the cavern settling,” Loki explained dismissively. How could he remain so calm?

“Settling? Won’t it settle… on us?” I gulped.

“No, it won’t. This space is quite secure. There’s bound to be some natural shifting, isn’t there.” He was losing patience in his tone again. He stopped looking around to focus his eyes on me. “We are fine. Do you have another question?” I shifted and tried to relax as I refocused on our conversation.

“Oh, yes! Lots,” I enthused. “Uh, let’s see. You were in prison. You said you tried to take over a planet. Which one?” The eyes looked down and away, hazing over in memory. They were filled with such pain and I found myself sympathetic to a story I hadn’t even heard.

“Don’t you watch the news of your own planet, brainless Berhane?” Loki asked coldly.

“Of course, I do.” My brain scrambled through years of recent history to find a connection. “But you’re not… wait… are you? Are you the Loki of New York?”

“I am,” he stated simply.

“B-b-but why?” I gasped. “What has Earth done to deserve your wrath?”

“My wrath? No, child, you misunderstand. I went to Midgard to rule as a benevolent king, just like Odin before me. I had no real interest in ruling, only in proving myself worthy of the man I’d called father.” It was turning into another story, but I didn’t mind. I was in a unique position to learn what no one else on Earth could ask about.

“What happened?” I whispered. I watched the eyes, so full of emotion, so much hurt in the memories.

“I fell, and I met a mad Titan. His name was Thanos. He was incredibly powerful and famously insane. He believed the only way to save the universe was to wipe out half the inhabitants, so the other half could thrive.” Three alien species and another threat to the entire universe. It was too much for me to take in, so I let it wash over me and just listened.

“I learned very quickly the Titan was not to be trifled with. It took all my cunning and intellect and planning to gain his trust. In the end, he called me ally and lent me a scepter with his most prized possession embedded in it.”

“But why? Why Earth?” I interrupted again.

“Thanos was collecting something, a very rare stone. There are only six of them in the universe. Thanos thinks they’ll help him with his mission. The deal was, I could rule Earth in exchange for the stone I knew was there.”

“You attacked Earth for a little rock?” I asked belligerent.

“No, for an indestructible source of power. My fa—Odin hid it there about seven hundred years ago.” Loki focused on me as he explained. Perhaps it was an important point. “The stone on Earth was the space stone. It could bend space at will. The stone in my scepter was the mind stone. It could bend people’s minds to one’s purpose. I was to use it to control the Chitauri army that helped invade your little planet. 

“What I didn’t understand was that the stone in the scepter was also controlling me. It fueled my rage and twisted my thoughts until I hated my brother. I had a plan to escape Thanos and help Earth prepare for extraterrestrial attacks, but the plan was warped by the scepter and turned violent. I went home in chains instead the hero I intended. I deserved it.” His face fell, his eyes became hooded again and his gaze turned inward. He did not see me even though he faced me. “The control is gone, and I am paying for my sins.”

I didn’t know what to say. Everyone knew about the violent attack on New York by Loki and the Chitauri army. No one knew about Thanos or the powerful stones or the control held over Loki. And no one would know, because we would die here, alone together and forgotten. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

Loki sighed. Apparently, he had no more to say, either. Suddenly, a bright burst of light filled the room! It was so bright after nothing but red eyes in the blackness that I couldn’t see anything. I threw my hands over my face to protect my eyes, but the light was gone almost as soon as it had come.

“What was that?” I exploded once my nerves had calmed down enough I could speak. I lowered my hands again, but I couldn’t immediately see the red orbs any more.

“That was Seidr,” Loki explained in that infuriatingly vague manner. “I sent out a wave to see if there were any kinks I could exploit in order to extricate us.” Again, I grasped for understanding but only managed to catch the most basic meaning.

“What did you learn?” I demanded.

“There is none. Not even a trickle of my magic escaped this cavern. We are truly unable to walk out of here.” Loki explained this so calmly, I wondered why he wasn’t more bothered. “On the other hand, that little experiment used all the Seidr I managed to recharge. I’ll have to start again.” This seemed more distressing to him. I huffed my confusion and sat against the wall.

“Let me check your injuries,” I changed the subject, sliding along the wall to where I left Loki stretched out. His eyes were finally visible again and darting around, as though looking at various things other than me.

“My injuries are healing just fine,” Loki assured me. I nudged his boots and started feeling up his legs.

“Look, you’re my patient. If you die, that’s on me,” I growled. The texture under my hand changed from leather to skin.

“I almost died because of you,” Loki hissed when I carelessly grazed a sensitive heritage line.

“What?” I sat back, shocked he would say such a thing. 

“I wasn’t even bleeding to death because my heart had stopped pumping. I’d hate to see the mess you’d leave having to take care of one of your own species.” 

“That’s so cruel.” My voice became high-pitched and strained. “I’m not a doctor, I don’t have medical training. I did the best I could with common knowledge of healing among my own species.”

“Then might I suggest a general first aid course? Any one weaker than I would have died in your care.” Loki was still refusing to look at me.

“What was I supposed to do?” I burst angrily. “You have a voice, you could have told me what was wrong, what you needed from me. Instead you played the morbid game with my hand in your chest and passed out when it came time to doing something. If I nearly killed you, it’s your fault!” Loki’s eyes went livid and finally did snap to me. There was a brief pause as though he might say something, then stopped. I imagined the absurd look of his gaping mouth.

“Perhaps you’re right. I put too much faith in a mere mortal to do what anyone else would have known as ‘common knowledge’, as you call it.” There was silence between us. If there were light, I would have turned my back or looked away. In the cave, I kept my eyes fixed on those wandering orbs. The flowery manly smell tickled my nose out of the blue. I ignored it.

“How are you doing?” I asked as calmly as I could manage. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll be forced to find out for myself.” I leaned forward and miscalculated, landing a hand heavily on his side. Loki jumped and groaned.

“No, I’ll talk,” he said. It almost sounded like I was torturing him! I couldn’t help a small smile, but it was disturbing enough to keep the laugh from my lips. I sat back.

“My arm is all but recovered,” Loki began. His eyes darted in the direction of the appendage. “It’s a little weak, but it won’t be for long. My heart is nearly repaired and should start beating any moment now. The bones of my spine and ribs are nearly whole but still weak. Repair on my severed spinal cord has finally begun, so I will be on my feet in no time. Healing to tissue, flesh and skin continues at a normal rate.” Loki’s eyes had wandered all over his body as he explained his condition. When he finished, they settled on me.

“What a pity that you’ll be healed just in time to die of suffocation or dehydration,” I joked morosely.

“Who said anything about dehydration,” Loki said dangerously. His eyes narrowed slightly.

“What do you mean,” I asked, raising red flags. I think I would have heard running water.

“How many liters of blood do you have?” Loki asked. “You aren’t particularly large, but there’s some meat on you. I could probably live off you for several days, even weeks if I had to!”

I jumped back with an involuntary shudder. “No, don’t!” I cried, tears rushing into my eyes. One more push and they’d fall. A deep chuckle reached my ears. Loki was teasing again.

“Don’t worry,” Loki assured in the same deep voice of his chuckle. “I value your company more than your body.” I exhaled the breath I’d been holding, but it was hard to relax.

“Just about the most horrid thing I can imagine is eating human flesh,” I stated. “Well, now that I know about aliens, I’d say eating the flesh of sentients,” I amended quickly. Loki chuckled again. I searched for a change in subject.

“Come, lie beside me,” Loki demanded. I think he meant it as a request but delivered it poorly.

“Why?” I asked, scared for something new. I admit he was attractive in all the aspects I’d managed to glean without my eyes, but I wasn’t ready for intimacy.

“My blood is not flowing so my body is cold. The stone floor is making me colder. I need your body heat to restore my own.” I hesitated. “Am I your patient or not?” I sighed and leaned in to search for his body and how to snuggle up. Loki helped me, as he still had control of his arms. He pulled me in until my head reached his shoulder and rolled me onto my side, so my hand rested on his unbroken ribs. His good arm draped over me and I found myself surprisingly comfortable against his cold skin.

“Tell me about yourself,” Loki demanded when we were finally comfortable. “Where were you before the cavern?”

“I don’t remember, really,” I informed confused. I had to strain to see his eyes now but discovered in the comforting cradle of his side I no longer needed to. “I was outside near my home looking for something. I can’t remember.”

“Pity,” Loki dismissed.

“My shoes were off when I woke up. Do you know how that happened?” I inquired.

“I do not. They were off when you arrived. You dropped them along with your bag before you collapsed.” Loki informed.

“Great, so I was outside in public in my stockinged feet,” I mused. “I must have been… shoe shopping? In one of those outdoor markets? I don’t know.” Loki’s leg twitched against mine at the mention of shoes, as though reminding himself he was still wearing boots.

“Where did you work on Midgard?” Loki asked. 

“In a call center. I’m an artist by trade, but I don’t make a lot of money that way, so I work at a call center to pay the rent.”

“Is it entertaining? Does it keep you active?” Loki pursued.

“Not really. I sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen for eight hours a day and try to convince people to buy stuff they don’t need.” I was having a hard time keeping my fingers still on his raised skin. I only wiggled my fingers, though, as I did not want to run into the gaping hole in his chest again.

“What a devilish thing to do,” Loki condemned. “I think I would excel at it.” I smirked at his change of opinion and he squeezed me under his good arm. One of my hands had been carefully placed on his chest by his own doing. The other was curled awkwardly under my body and across my chest. I found it was very easy to reach the hand he had wrapped around me. I absently patted the back of his hand as we enjoyed our amusement.

 

But under my fingertips, I felt the strange lines again. I stroked along one of them on the back of his hand. Our conversation fell quiet again. I tried to think about my life before the cave and remember what I’d forgotten. I remembered my job and the ugly call floor with all those cubicles. I stroked down to his fingers, feeling ridged lines as I passed them. I hated my job and hoped to change it soon. Perhaps Loki was right. Perhaps I’d go to community college and become a nurse. I found his thumb and a line leading back up to his wrist. I followed it as far as I could reach. I remembered the tiny duplex I live in with a tank full of fish I talk to every day. Gawd, that sounds pathetic. Loki gasped, pulling me out of my reverie. He moved his hand out of my reach, and I realized what I’d been doing to him.

“I warned you they are sensitive,” he croaked. I strained to look at him, and his eyes were squinty, as in pain. But a different pain than the physical pain I’d seen him through. I wish I could see his face. Was he blushing? Could he blush?

“What happened?” I asked innocently.

“It doesn’t matter. It will go down quickly.” That was a confusing statement if ever I heard one. Loki took an audible deep breath, then let it out slowly -- very slowly. “There, it is gone.”

How I wished I wasn’t so ignorant, innocent, naive, whatever. I had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded like an erection. I decided not to press the matter and just let it be gone.

The next instant, my eyes were drawn irresistibly across Loki’s chest. I perceived the faintest hint of light, which quickly grew to very visible light. It illuminated Loki’s fingers for a brief moment in yellow-gold glow before drifting into the cavern. Loki made six of these, and by the time he was done, the cave was lit well enough. The light was also added gradually enough that it didn’t hurt my eyes nearly so much to see.

I rose to my feet to observe the orbs better. They were extraordinary. “A light without a source!” I exclaimed.

“It has a source, just not one your kind has discovered yet,” Loki explained. I danced in slow mesmerization as I watched the orbs float around me.

“It must be magic!” Loki smirked from across the space and I glanced at him. Then my jaw dropped and my eyes popped out of my head. “Blue?!?” I exclaimed. I wasn’t sure how much of me was amazed and how much horrified. “You’re BLUE? Blue skin! I thought… but how could I know? You should have told me!” I realized it was rambling in my shock.

“Why is it my responsibility? You didn’t see me freaking out at your skin color,” Loki said dryly.

“B-b-blue skin… blue raised -- heritage -- lines… blue lips… is your tongue blue, too?” I didn’t wait for an answer, but Loki smiled broadly and humorlessly to show that the inside of his mouth was, indeed, blue, except for his white teeth. “And your blood!” I continued on. I hadn’t realized I was drawing closer as I examined him and exclaimed. “I thought it was red, like mine! I thought all living creatures needed red blood to survive.”

“Your ignorance is showing again,” Loki taunted. He painfully pulled himself to recline against the cold, hard wall. I knelt down beside him, still wide-eyed and transfixed. His hair was raven black and shoulder-length. It was darker than my long ropes. He was indeed muscular, and had an absence of nipples that did not look strange in the presence of his lines.

“What are you staring at?” the man asked with irritation in his voice. I found my voice barely a whisper as I answered.

“You! You’re beautiful!” He smirked and looked away. “You are possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!” His blue cheeks tinted the slightest purple. He could blush after all.

I scrutinized him a bit closer this time. The cut on his arm and the hole where the straw had been were completely healed and without scars. The much larger wound was considerably smaller than when I’d touched it blindly. It looked mostly like a huge scab.

“It will heal completely,” Loki assured me, following my inspection with his red orbs, still glowing in the dim light he’d created for us. “Stop looking at me, there’s plenty more to look at now.”

I wandered off, looking at the bends and bows and cracks and colorations of our new home. I tried to pretend it was an interesting place. “At least we won’t die in the dark,” I mused, trying to remain positive.

“We’re not going to die,” Loki grumbled from the wall.

“What are all the ways we could die in this situation? Suffocation, starvation, dehydration?” I started dancing slowly around the orbs of light again.

“Enraged murderous attack,” the blue-blood tacked on to the end.

“What?” I shrieked, jerking around to stare at him again. A small dark smile played on his thin, blue lips.

“What do you think would be the least painful way to go?” I asked when I realized he was only jesting.

“Suffocation,” he answered conversationally, finally humoring me. “It feels much like falling asleep.”

“That sounds nice.” I resumed my pointless wandering of the cave. I heard a scraping behind me and looked to see my companion’s knees in the air, his black boots flat on the ground. “How’s your healing going?”

“It is progressing as expected.” Loki stretched his arms out and practiced moving his legs in various directions.

“You’re not paralyzed anymore,” I observed.

“I noticed,” Loki quipped sarcastically.

“Are you ready to stand?” I drew closer.

“I’m not sure yet.” He put a hand on the shrinking scab on his chest.

“Do you need help?” I offered foolishly, remembering I could barely move him when he was unconscious.

“That won’t be necessary,” Loki confessed, waving me down.

“You look about the size of a normal man, I mean a human. How come you’re so heavy? How much do you weigh? Do you know how to convert your units of measurement into American Standard measurements?” Loki hissed and glared at me through those intense red eyes, startling me into cutting off my ramble.

“I am the size of a normal human, but I am much denser. There is no metal native to Midgard that can even puncture my skin, much less cause other damage.”

“But… New York, the Hulk. Everyone says that’s how the Villain of New York was defeated.”

“I admit that was painful,” Loki allowed. “It was just painful enough that I decided it was a good time to surrender.”

“Decided? Time?” I pressed. Loki rolled his eyes and seethed.

“My original uninfluenced plan, was to leave your planet to its own devices with a new and worthy fighting force. The Hulk’s punishment brought me back to my senses enough that I remembered that bit and stopped fighting.” Loki looked sad, drawn, even shameful. I put a comforting hand on his lined shoulder, wishing to touch more of him.

“Influenced by Thanos?” I squeaked.

“Influenced by the mind stone,” he corrected. “What’s done is done. Let’s try this standing thing.” 

I leaned back on my knees and waited for him to ask for help. Instead, he relied on the much more stable wall. He turned around, placing both palms on the cold stone, pulling his legs along behind him. He seemed to be pulling himself up the wall by his hands. He struggled to move his legs, but made the effort to get them under him. Finally, he was standing with his weight on the wall.

“Let me help,” I offered, jumping to my own feet. I reached out to take him under his arm.

“No, that’s not necessary,” he insisted. He stepped away from the wall to prove his point, but he wasn’t ready and he fell down again. For the first time, I saw his back and the tiny scar where the exit wound had been. I gasped and reached out to it without thinking. Or, perhaps I was reaching out to the well-trained back muscles and more exquisite lines that disappeared into his hair and his pants. Loki gasped next and I pulled my hand away.

“Sorry,” I squeaked.

“Must you always be touching me? Royalty aren’t usually permitted to be touched by peasants -- commoners.” I pouted at his rude comment. Loki groaned as he tried to turn over. “I’m sorry. All-Speak sometimes is … imprecise.”

“I… I think I understand.” Loki began reaching for the wall again. “Wait! Shouldn’t you rest a bit before trying again?” I instinctively put a hand on his arm, despite his recent warning. A look caused me to withdraw it quickly.

“I know my boundaries,” he snapped. I stepped back to give him room. He pulled up the wall much faster this time. He took a deep breath, and this time he was ready when he stepped away. He stood on his own, though he wavered a bit. “There, I told you,” he boasted with a growl. He attempted to straighten his back, possibly his prince’s training. Then, he took several slow and tentative steps toward the middle of the room.

“You’re doing it!” I exclaimed. I spoke too soon. His boot caught on the uneven stone ground and he fell again. This time, he was too far away to use the wall to rise again. I dashed over to him and reached out, eager for that natural touch, but I managed to restrain myself. “Oh! Oh no, how can I help?”

“You can’t,” he growled. He was already scrambling to get back on his feet. He stopped at his knees. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. A moment later, he returned to his attempts to rise. He managed it surprisingly quickly. When he was up, he moved much more confidently.

“Wow, you seem so much stronger,” I noted.

“I used some more of my Seidr to regenerate.” He began walking around, as though testing or exercising his legs.

“Ok, you keep using that word but I don’t know what it means!” I snapped.

“What, Seidr?”

“Exactly!” Loki let out a low laugh.

“How could I have forgotten? Seidr is the binding stuff of Yggdrasil.” I glared confused at him. He tried again. “By simplest, though somewhat inaccurate definition, it is magic.”

“Magic? Like, real magic? True magic? Not sleight of hand or bait and switch or misleading?” Loki frowned at my rambling. Then, as he answered, he allowed himself a smirk.

“Yes, dear mortal, like real magic.” I smiled in awe, he smiled in smugness. “So what do you find more impressive: my healing abilities or my little lights?” I laughed full out this time. “What’s so funny?”

“Little Light? That’s what my name means.” Loki was less amused, but he joined in the laughter.

“Pity,” he purred. I simpered but tried to hide it. “Well, I must test my range of motion.” He put one hand behind his back and held the other out to me expectantly. I stared at it blankly. “Will you dance with me, Little Light?” his eyebrows were raised and I could see the depths of those glowing red orbs.

“Oh, no. No, no,” I stammered, backing away and drawing my hands toward my chest. “I-I don’t dance. I don’t know how … to dance.”

“Is that so?” One long-fingered blue hand grabbed my bronze wrist. “Everyone can dance. You just need a proper lesson.” He pulled me in effortlessly. The breath I was holding in escaped as I hit his bare chest. “Now, look into my eyes. Feel my body. Let me move you around the room.”

I tried to obey. I looked at his red glowing eyes, but they were unnerving with the intensity of his gaze. So I tried to focus on his face, but I only remembered how much I wanted to touch it. He moved me then, stepping forward so that I should have stepped back. I didn’t and he stepped on me awkwardly.

“Oops, my bad,” I said shyly. He re-set us and we tried again. I still could not focus but I felt him step toward me and I quickly moved my feet out of the way. It created an unnatural, jerky motion. Loki released my hands and stepped back. He’s given up already, I thought as my heart sunk.

“Perhaps you’ll find this form easier to focus on,” Loki said, drawing my attention to him. Pink was spreading across his face. It trickled down his ears and nose, rolled over his neck and shoulders, covered in chest and belly and all down his arms to the tips of his fingers. He was now pink! Fleshy, humany pink! And his lines were gone. His eyes were no longer red but normal green with whites and everything. Mostly, he looked exactly the same, except his colors and lines. “I take it you approve,” he asked, noting my gaping mouth.

“You shapeshift?” My voice was tight and the whisper was husky.

“This is my As form. I grew up in this skin. It is most comfortable to me.” Loki turned one elegant pink limb over for inspection. I couldn’t decide which form was more beautiful, but I finally managed to inhale.

“How many skins do you have?” He took my hands and pulled me close, dancing me carefully on the uneven ground. My mind was so full of questions my body just took care of itself for once.

“I was born a shapeshifter,” Loki informed. “I can shift into anything. However, the two skins you have seen are a result of my parentage. My father was a Jotun, my mother was an As. I never knew either one, but I met my father once. I killed him to prove my loyalty to the man who raised me.”

“Adopted father?” I asked, noting with mild indignation how Loki casually discussed patricide. 

“Yes. I didn’t know it until a few years ago. The shocking discovery wasn’t my adoption, but my Jotun heritage. You see, I was raised to believe Jotuns were mindless monsters. We always talked about the big blue monsters with terrible red eyes. Suddenly, mid-battle, I start turning blue? Imagine my horror! I confronted the old man about it, and he confessed he took me and raised me for political purposes. Even that part wasn’t worth losing myself over. It was discovering I myself was the type of monster I’d been raised to fear. How could anyone love a monster?”

I found myself remembering a famous Disney movie on that same point. The dance scene was the most exquisite thing in animation that decade! And suddenly, I remembered Loki and I were dancing, and I hadn’t stumbled or stepped on him once. I tried hard not to spoil it, so I asked another question.

“Have you made peace with your two halves yet?”

“How can I? A thousand years of hate and disgust cannot be erased in a decade.” He sounded bitter and I felt for him, though I couldn’t really relate.

“I have two sides, too. My mother is Japanese, my father is from Tanzania. I was raised in America and learned to become both and neither whenever I needed.” I stroked his smooth cheek. “I can’t imagine hating one side of my heritage. It’s so cruel.”

Loki looked like he agreed, but said nothing. We danced a little longer amongst the lights. After awhile, Loki started humming an unfamiliar tune. I thought it might be from his planet. When his humming died, announcing the end of the song, Loki stopped moving me around the room. He stepped back and kissed the back of my hand like a prince.

“Thank you,” I said awkwardly. “Thanks. That was nice.” 

“You’re welcome,” he threw over his shoulder as he walked away. “You might want to gather your belongings. I’m almost ready.”

“Ready for what?” I quizzed. But he was hovering over his pile of metal and leather, starting to dress himself. I scrambled over to my bag and threw any stray items inside unceremoniously. It was a bloody mess -- a blue blood mess! So was I. Loki still chose to dance with me. My head swooned at the realization. I was almost ready when my shoes came flying across the room and landed smoothly next to me. I had forgotten about them! I quickly shoved my feet inside, following Loki’s haste and wondering what he had up his sleeve.

“Come on, then,” he said, moving to the middle of the room again.

“What are you planning, what are we doing?” I asked as I hurried over. He tucked me under his arm and grinned mischievously. Pressing into the armor was not nearly as enjoyable as his bare chest.

“Brace yourself, the lights are going out.” He held up his free hand. The lights disappeared one by one and the cave grew darker. “Last one,” Loki warned. I looked at him confused and expectant. 

It happened so fast! The light vanished, replaced by a brighter, colder light. We were outside, and it was dusk.

“How-- What-- Where?” I stammered, unable to finish any of my bubbling questions.

“Always with the questions, Little Light,” Loki teased. “We are on Midgard. You should be able to find your way home from here.”

“You can’t leave me here! I don’t know where on Earth I am!” Looking around, I noticed some of the writing. “We’re in Asia! That’s on the opposite side of the globe from where I live!”

“Alright, calm down before you draw a crowd,” Loki said grudgingly. “The things I do for people.”

“I saved your life. The least you can do is take me to my proper city,” I raged, hands on hips.

“What’s the name of this city,” Loki asked as he adjusted the metal around his forearms and wrists. 

“Mankato, Minnesota, I live on 12th Street.” Loki sighed as he realized that wasn’t going to help him.

“Imagine your residence. Picture in your mind where it is you want to go.” I obliged, picturing my bland furnishings and the fish tank with too many fish. Loki put a hand on my forehead. All at once, we were sucked through space. Colors streaked by so fast I couldn’t name them. We stopped so abruptly I wondered if we’d moved at all. I stumbled backward.

“That was teleportation!” I exclaimed breathlessly. Loki looked around my apartment and sneered.

“Indeed it was.” He observed my belongings and settled for reading the titles of the few books I’d acquired.

“So, you can teleport,” I listed.

“Yes,” Loki confirmed.

“And Shapeshift.”

“Yes.”

“And heal yourself.”

“Yes.”

“And make light.”

“Yes.”

“Anything else?”

“Plenty, but I’m afraid you’ll see no more of it.” Loki looked to me with a soft smile.

“Why’s that,” I asked, still staring at him.

“I have to go back home. I have to face my brother and the old man.” He looked terribly unhappy about the prospects.

“Are you leaving now?” I stepped closer.

“I must.” He stepped closer.

“I wish you the best of luck.” I lifted my hands to place them on his armored chest. He grabbed them before I touched him and drew them up to kiss the knuckles on each hand.

“Thank you, Little Light,” he purred. His green eyes were so captivating. I didn’t think I could look away. However, he stepped back and looked sadly at me. He was gone. If I had blinked, I would have missed him vanishing. I really did wish the best for him, but I was back in my apartment and it was unlikely I’d see him again. I fed the fish and sat on my couch, contemplating what I wanted to do with all the knowledge I acquired from our experience together. I could already see, he changed my life.

**Author's Note:**

> Berhane and Loki will return in a new series called Burned Out.


End file.
